


my dear little bird

by quantumoddity



Category: Nightrunner Series - Lynn Flewelling
Genre: Baby, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, New Baby, Newborn Chaos, Parenthood, Past Abuse, Seregil is Trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: The first time Seregil finds himself alone with his baby daughter, he finds himself confronting a lot of old hurts
Relationships: Alec í Amasa/Seregil í Korit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	my dear little bird

Seregil couldn’t remember the last time it had been quiet. 

It had been days that hadn’t really felt like days at all, just fragmented hours of wailing and crying and snatches of sleep that they seized when they could, whether the moon was in the sky or not. It had all felt frantic, like he and Alec had just been carried along in a river about to burst its banks, just having to hope that they wouldn’t look back and find they were miles away from where they were supposed to be. It felt like they’d been running ever since the day when little Adzriel had come into their lives, running full pelt with the wind rushing through their ears and their feel barely touching the ground, a split second away from falling. 

But suddenly, without warning, everything around Seregil was still and quiet. He’d found himself in the eye of the storm their lives had become. 

It was quiet but not silent, of course.  Bôkthersa was never silent, it hadn’t been as long as Seregil had known it. The birds were still calling, far off in the trees and a heavy summer rain was falling, playing music on the roof of his family’s house, just like he remembered. There were muted voices in the other rooms, some he knew and others he didn’t, but they all had the same accent, the cadence of home. The same floorboards creaked underfoot, the same sounds could be heard from the kitchen far below, there was the same scratching of the haba on the roof and the walls as they sought nooks to hide from the rain that came every summer. 

Everything was the same. And yet he was so different. 

Being here in Bôkthersa was never going to be easy, knowing everything he’d lost, feeling that neatly cut away part of his heritage that had been taken with a few words from the Ia'sidra. But they’d been here for a good few months now and it wasn’t as if his sisters and his family treated him any differently, they’d been delighted to see him and Alec and folded them into their lives gladly. In fact, it sometimes felt as though that day had never happened, or even either of the days that had severed his connection to this place, the first one ragged and painful, the second one neat and numbed. 

Besides Seregil had rather more pressing matters to hold his attention. 

They’d taken over his old childhood bedroom, it wouldn’t have felt quite right anywhere else. Even if it did look very different with the bed pushed right back against the wall to make room for the fine oak crib that took up much of the room. Though the general chaos and mess of three days with a newborn didn’t actually look that far out of place. A much younger Seregil had kept it in a similar state of disarray. 

Now, he sat in a chair by the window, feeling what little sun had managed to break through the curtain of rain warm his skin. There was no crying, no screaming, no tense, exhausted words exchanged between him and his husband. There was just the rain. 

He’d left Alec where he’d fallen, asleep on a couch downstairs, loathe to disturb him by insisting he get into bed. He’d just covered him with a blanket, kissed his tangled, unbrushed hair and bid Mydri to call for him when he woke up. His talímenios had been looking so worn out and exhausted lately, he wanted him to get all the sleep he could in the little time before their daughter needed him again. Between the mania of the days since her arrival and the months beforehand, Seregil couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d seen that face he loved so much without dark shadows under the eyes. 

Of course, if he told Alec that, he’d furrow his brow in that adorable way he always did and mumble something about feeling the exact same way about Seregil. But there still felt like there was this unpaid debt between them, this sensation that Alec had given so much of himself in the last few months and Seregil would never, ever be able to thank him properly. Though he was trying, in what small ways he could, with gentle words and kisses when Alec least expected it, subtle acts of worship to this miracle worker who now stood where the naive, wide eyed Dalnan boy he’d fallen for once did. 

And so here he was, letting Alec sleep while it slowly dawned on him that this was the first time he’d been alone with their baby since she was born. 

The first emotion that accompanied that was fear, quickly followed by a flood of guilt. He looked over at her from his chair, the bundle of blankets made by her adoring aunties that gently rose and fell with her breathing, the tufts of dark hair that were just visible. What right did he have to be scared of such a little thing, one who depended on him so much? 

But it was so hard, he thought, as he miserably sunk down in his chair, noting with a disgusted curl of his lip that he hadn’t changed his clothes in some time. When he thought of the word  _ father  _ it was impossible to think of anyone but Korit, it was his face that he saw. His hard, sharp lined face with his cold eyes and disappointment set into his jaw, nothing Seregil could do to shift it. He heard his voice, the one that still made his shoulders tense when he heard it, like he was about to be admonished. He felt such a deep and unpleasant mix of emotions when he heard that word, whenever any Bôkthersan congratulated him or when he looked at himself in the mirror and tried to whisper it, that he couldn’t help but feel a stab of fear when he saw Adzriel. 

The baby rather than his sister. That was going to get confusing. Though his sister’s face when he’d told her what they’d decided to call her new niece had been more than worth it.

But he and Alec had a lot of long, eventually very tearful talks late at night when Seregil couldn’t sleep. He’d opened up to his talímenios more than he ever thought he’d be able to with another person, revealing parts of himself that had been wounded so long ago and still hadn’t really scabbed over. It had been painful, incredibly so, but he’d felt cleaner afterwards, with his tear streaked cheeks and aching chest. 

And he’d realised he’d wanted this so much. He’d wanted her, he’d wanted Adzriel. 

And now he had her, he refused to let that fear win, he refused to let Korit and the mistakes they’d both made poison this too. 

Almost as if she sensed his discomfort, the tiny form of his daughter began to shift and a low, sleepy grizzle started up. Seregil started, the fear managing to win over for a second and pull his thoughts downstairs to where his husband was but he shook himself angrily. Alec needed to sleep, he was going to run himself into the ground the way he was going on, trying to do everything, adjusting to their new life while trying to protect Seregil from his anxieties at the same time. This wasn’t going to work if it wasn’t an equal partnership. 

And he did want this to work, so badly, and not just for Alec’s sake. 

Seregil rose from his chair and crossed the room to the crib, leaning over the side. Sometimes all she’d need would be a few soft words from Alec and she’d sink back into sleep, just a little settling. But her tiny face was flushed and scrunched up, looking so indignant it was comical, looking so much like  _ him  _ that it was comical. She was clearly gearing up for a sob, her little chest heaving under the blankets and gathering speed. 

“Oh no, no, no, don’t do that!” Seregil begged softly, wincing, “Your papa’s sleeping and you’re going to wake him up…”

Little Adzri looked up at him, like that was precisely her intention. 

“Come now, you just ate, you can’t be hungry,” Sergeil murmured, reaching a hesitant finger into the crib and stroking one cheek. She was so soft...

Adzri grumbled, though she lent into his touch like she was seeking it out. Seregil steeled himself and reached into the crib, lifting her out, “Here. I can comfort you just as well, can’t I?” He wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to convince. 

She was much heavier than he expected, even after he’d held her a good few times now. The was a good, comforting weight to her, especially when she settled against his shoulder and began to nuzzle at him. He supported her head, just like Alec had shown him, made his movements more lilting and rhythmic to rock her. Almost immediately, her keening stopped and she began to gnaw at his shoulder, soaking his shirt. 

“Hey!” Seregil chuckled, “You rascal…”

He returned to his chair, setting his bare feet on the windowsill so he could lie Adzri against his legs. She was beautiful, even with his fears he’d thought that since the very first time he’d seen her. She’d been born with a full head of wispy dark curls and bright blue eyes like the water in a stream when you broke it’s winter crust of ice. Two parts of both her fathers but arranged in a way that was entirely her own. Every part of her was a marvel. 

“You’re nothing to be scared of, are you?” Seregil sighed, cradling her head and running his thumb across her cheek. 

Adzri burbled, blinking at him curiously. She seemed attentive to his voice, following it like a light. Like she got comfort from it, as well as his touch. 

Seregil felt his throat close but he found a thin, croaky version of his voice, “I’m sorry, Adzriel. If I’ve seemed...cold or distant, I’m just...I’m scared. And I know that sounds ridiculous but I’m just so scared that I couldn’t be what you needed. That I’d fail, the way I always failed before. And being a good father to you matters so much to me that if I...if I failed at it, it would break my heart.”

He shifted to cradle her closer, needing to feel her little heartbeat against his, how she curled in against him and sought his warmth. 

“But that’s no reason not to try. And I am going to try, Adzriel, I promise you. I will try so, so hard for you because...because I’m your father. And I love you.” 

His daughter mumbled contentedly against him, making her soft little noises that reminded him of a baby bird or the kittens Ruthea would have. He held her as tight as he could without coming anywhere close to hurting her, turning his head to press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. 

Seregil didn’t know many lullabies, losing his own mother before he’d taken his first breath. By the time the sister he’d named his daughter for was old enough to be more his mother than anything else, he’d outgrown the need for them. But he knew some and one came to him now, though his voice was cracked with emotions too deep to name. 

_ “Oh hush thee my dove, oh hush thee my sweet love _

_ Oh hush thee my lap wing, my dear little bird. _

_ Oh, fold your wings and seek your nest now _

_ The berries shine on the old rowan tree _

_ The bird is home from the hills and valleys…” _

By the time he was done, Azdri was soundly asleep again, her face relaxed and peaceful. He could have put her back in her crib but he didn’t, enjoying the quiet and the warmth of the sun on them both, the gentle rhythm of the rain. 

The stillness allowed him to hear the whisper of stockinged feet across the floorboards so there was no surprise when Alec appeared in the doorway, the blanket Seregil had draped over him now hanging off his shoulders like an oversized cloak. His hair was more mussed than ever, the side he’d been laying on matted while the other side was a bird’s nest. His eyes were still ringed in shadow, he still looked exhausted but he was smiling.

Sergel didn’t think he’d ever looked more beautiful. 

“Hello…” he whispered, so he wouldn’t wake their daughter, “I’m sorry, I tried to let you sleep…”

“I’m glad I didn’t,” Alec shook his head, padding over. He bent over the back of the chair, finding Seregil’s lips ready to meet his own. 

“I love you,” Alec whispered, resting his forehead on his talímenios’, “And I’m so proud of you.” 

“I love you too, talí,” Seregil croaked, aware that tears were trickling down the side of his face. Whether they were his or Alec’s, he couldn’t say. It didn’t matter. 

And outside, the rain continued its sweet and steady song. Outside the haba tucked themselves in amongst the trees, the birds twittered and nestled into their knot holes. 

The quiet wouldn’t last, of course it wouldn’t. But now they would always be able to find it within themselves, at the heart of their little family. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment! It means so much to me! You can also come and talk to me about this AU on my Tumblr, @mollymauk-teafleak


End file.
